


An Overwatch Carol

by TheDeathEcchi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Meihem - Freeform, Romance, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeathEcchi/pseuds/TheDeathEcchi
Summary: It's not quite the classic fable you know. There's three spirits still, but there's also someone trying to kill them. A certain junker who has a hard time learning lessons.





	An Overwatch Carol

**Author's Note:**

> A gift to https://fetusgodjim.tumblr.com/, who has legendary patience. No, really, this took forever. And not just because I'm a procrastinating ass. Merry coelacanth~!

Holidays, under Jack's leadership, were never really given that much thought to the Overwatch team. Apart from, say, a curt, clipped acknowledgment during the morning briefing, and then never discussed again.

But times had changed. Winston was leading the reformed group, and if there was anything the intelligent gorilla loved more than peanut butter, science, and his friends, it was the holidays.

As days ticked off on the calendar towards the 25th of December, the team had gone all out in decorating. Lights and tinsel weaved through the ceilings, the smell of pine and holly (courtesy of Torbjörn gathering as many trees as he could from parts unknown) wafted through the air, and even Satya had joined in on the festivities, creating arrays of holographic light projectors that would cast brilliant snowflake patterns on whatever surface they could.

Winston surveyed the decorating with a wide smile and puffed chest. "It looks like it's all coming together." he said with a satisfied sigh. "This will surely--"

"Make way, make way!" came the distinct, maniacal cackle of a well-known Korean as she zipped inside the mess hall. The familiar form of her MEKA appeared--it, too, was dressed for the occasion, draped in lights, tinsel, and a small wreath atop its head--zooming through with an enormous glass star in its hands. With surprising finesse, Hana placed it stop the tree, the object catching the light and casting glittering spots throughout the hall.

"Hana!" Winston shouted, more out of safety for the gamer than anger. "I've said it a thousand times; don't fly the MEKA in here except in the training facility!"

Ejecting from the MEKA, Hana did an elegant flip and landed perfectly on the ground, flashing Winston a peace sign. "Geez, chillax, Ape Escape! It's no big--"

A resounding crash echoed through the watchpoint as the MEKA burst through the wall, sailing off into the distance, gradually becoming a dot on the horizon. 

"--deal." Hana clucked her tongue as Winston stared on in abject horror. "Huh. Must've forgotten the autopilot."

Winston held his head in his hands and sighed as Hana engaged the self-destruct. Sometimes he forgot how crazy the holidays could truly be.

-/-/-/-/-

Talking of holidays and crazy, there was one pair that was distancing themselves from the festivities. 

Off in their safe--and the term is used loosely--space that consisted of a fence and their trailer, Junkrat and Roadhog were doing what they always did. 

"Pull!"

Not even glancing up from his novel, Roadhog pulled the lever, the shoddy catapult tossing a mound of debris into the air, Junkrat letting out his signature maniacal cackle as he fired a volley of bombs at it. The first for missed terribly, not even grazing it as they exploded into the dirt. But the fifth found its mark, sending debris flying in all directions before the remnants collapsed into a smoky pile on the ground.

"Whooooo-hoooooo!" Junkrat cheered, pumping his metal fist into the air. "Whatcha figure that was, Roadie? Foive outta ten?"

"One." replied the elder Junker. "You missed. A lot."

"Eh." Junkrat replied, reloading. "Aiming's overrated."

"Jamison!" The lanky Australian flinched. He recognized that voice. But more importantly, he recognized that tone. Slowly turning around, he saw Mei stomping towards him, looking equal parts cute and angry in her panda pajamas.

"Hey, darl!" he greeted nervously. "Lookin' good in them jammies! But they'd look better on the bedroom floor, iffin' ya know wot ah mean."

Mei jabbed a finger at him. "None of your sweet talk, Jamison Fawkes! The team and I are trying to decorate for Christmas tomorrow, and it would be really appreciated if you didn't try to blow up half the watchpoint while we're doing so. We can hear your explosions all the way inside!"

'Ever considered earmuffs?' Roadhog thought, but said nothing, turning the page.

"Oi, wassa big deal? S'just Christmas. Ain't nothin' to get all crazy about."

"Christmas is a special time!" Mei tried to explain. "To be with loved ones, and share in the magic and revelry of the holiday. Surely you can understand that?"

"...Not really."

Mei stamped her foot in irritation, puffing out her cheeks. "Fine! Just...keep the bombs to a minimum, please? You can explode all you want after tomorrow."

"Does that include--"

"I know what you were about to say and you can keep that dirty little joke to yourself."

Behind him, Roadhog snickered, earning a dark glare from the demoman. 

Junkrat sighed as he watched Mei go, dropping into a sitting position, and resting his chin in his hand. "Well, that's a foine how-do-ya-do." he grumbled. "Wot'm ah supposed ta do iffin' ah can't commence with the old boom?"

"You could try helping them decorate." huffed Roadhog.

Junkrat's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as he grinned ear to ear. "Yeah! There's an idea! And ah know just what their little decoratin' committee needs."

Hopping to his feet, Junkrat scurried back into the trailer, returning with an armload of explosives and his signature twisted smile. "Gonna give 'em a makeover in junker style!"

Roadhog sighed as he turned another page. This would only end badly, he knew. But he didn't make a move to stop him. It'd serve as a good learning experience.

-/-/-/-/-

Mei awoke to the sounds of clattering metal and immediately associated Junkrat with them. Sighing, she pulled off the covers and pulled on her slippers, making her way to the mess hall. The sight that greeted her made her jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Hey, Mei!" Junkrat greeted from atop the Christmas tree. Coating nearly every visible surface of the tree were explosives and wires, his signature detonator in his hand. "Just in time to see some proper decorating."

"Have you lost your senses!?" Mei quietly shrieked; if anyone else were to see this, it would be absolute disaster. "Get down from there this second!"

"Hardly! What's Christmas without lights? And yer all 'bout to see a _real_ light show!"

_click!_ went the detonator in his hand, just as Mei dove behind a wall.

Outside, Roadhog was awoken by the sound of a tremendous boom, and the sight of what looked like a flaming Christmas tree bursting out of the roof of the watchpoint before exploding into an admittedly impressive fireworks show.

"...Idiot." he grumbled after a moment, before returning to bed.

-/-/-/-/-

" _ **...and furthermore!!**_ "

At the sound of the explosion, the team had rushed into the mess hall, weapons drawn, and were aghast at the damage. The spot where the Christmas tree had been was nothing more than a smoking crater, a massive hole was directly above it, and shrapnel and debris littered the room. The acrid smell of smoke and gasoline permeated the room and would likely stick for months.

The initial reaction was to chew Junkrat out into next week, but Mei had beaten them to the punch, and was laying into him with the force of a howitzer. Back and forth she drifted between enraged English and rapid, furious Chinese. And Junkrat stood, eyes down at the floor and looking very, very sheepish.

"I just cannot **_believe_** you!" she screamed, stamping her foot, causing even 76 to inch back in fear, the aim on his pulse rifle lowering. " _Húndàn_!* Degenerate! Fiery _guàiwù**_!"

"Should we..." ventured Lúcio. "I dunno...help him?"

Hana faced him with an incredulous stare. "Do _you_ wanna get on her bad side?" she whispered. "I'm not about to make things worse. Besides, he destroyed our tree. He deserves this."

Ten more minutes the yelling went, until Mei was nearly blue in the face. He was promptly banished from the watchpoint for the rest of the year (short as it was), with Mei offering no stance on the matter. And as she stomped off to her room, the remainder of the team parted like the sea, not wanting any of her anger to be directed towards them.

"Smooth." drawled Hana as she holstered her gun and left with Lúcio. The rest of the team, thankfully, said nothing, only offering disapproving glares as they left him to wallow.

-/-/-/-/-

Junkrat stared up at the roof of the trailer. Normally he could sleep anywhere, at any time. In the Orca, during mission briefings, even in the middle of battle, just to refresh, but sleep eluded him this night.

Roadhog had said nothing, and his usual silence was more painful than normal. With a sigh, he had clambered into bed, the darkness of the night more palpable than ever before.

He didn't know when exactly sleep had overtaken him, but he had woken to the sound of chains rattling. Grabbing his grenade launcher, he armed it, aiming towards the sound. "Show yerself, fucker!"

All was silent for a moment, then the sound of rattling chains rose up again. Through the door of the trailer floated a very familiar form.

It was Roadhog, as he knew him, but different. Wispy, transparent, ghostly. Length upon length of chain encircled him and rolled off him, sweeping the floor. 

"Roadie?" gaped Junkrat. "The hell're you looking like that for! Pale as death, y'are. And what's with the chains?"

"Aesthetic." Roadhog replied. "I visit you with important--"

"Hey, how'd you float through the door like that? Couldjya always do that? Coulda helped in King's Row, ya pig-faced cock. If ya can still do that, ah got this sweet job lined up--"

Despite his form, Roadhog was able to land a very solid punch to Junkrat's head, the younger junker shrieking in pain. "Shut. Up. What I'm about to tell you is important. It concerns your future."

"You ain't gonna have a future if ya do that again!"

"I'm here to give you a warning. To save you from screwing things up. Tonight, you'll be haunted by three spirits."

A hyena-like bout of laughter rose up from Junkrat. "Mate, yer cracked! Ain't no such thing as ghosts!"

"That Talon agent with the endless guns."

Junkrat paused. The jury was out on that, but that was as close to ghost as ghost could be. "Awright. So why're these ghosts givin' lil' ol' me a visit?"

"To save you." A beat. "From yourself."

And with that, and an almost comical 'poof', Roadhog disappeared.

"...Kinda anticlimactic..." Junkrat muttered before returning to bed. 

-/-/-/-/-

Again Junkrat woke, not to the rattle of chains, but the presence of another, and the smell of freshly made tea.

The sight of Ana greeted him upon waking, but like Roadhog, not the Ana he knew. Rather than a patch over her eye was an eternally burning candle-like flame that shone like the morning sun. No tattered cloak, but a nightgown of blue and white. Her signature rifle was slung over her shoulder, and she fixed the junker with a bemused grin, raising her cup at him.

"Gram!? Hell you doin' in here?"

She blinked. "'Gram?' ...Ah, you must mean Ana. That must be how you see me."

"Oh, lemme guess; Roadie roped you inta this whole 'three spirits deal'." he laughed, making exaggerated air quotes with his fingers. "So you're the Ghost of Christmas Past?"

"Correction. Your past."

At that, Junkrat frowned. "Oi, no need to go rooting around in my past. Lotta skellies in that closet."

Ana finished her tea, the cup and saucer disappearing in wisps of smoke. "I'm afraid that's not up to you." she replied. Before Junkrat could object, Ana gripped his shoulder, and they were gone. 

-/-/-/-/-

In one instance they were gone, and another, there they were. But not at the watchpoint. Junkrat recognized their new location with a weary bitterness. It was Junkertown, but not as he knew it. How could he tell? Because he was there.

Ana and Junkrat sat atop one of the many slipshod structures that the junkers dared call a building. From it they could survey everything; the rowdy street brawls, the occasional explosion, all the trimmings of junker life.

Traipsing down the road was Junkrat from only a few years ago. Not much was different, save for one glaring absence of a certain burly, hook-wielding, mask-toting bodyguard. 

"This wasn't so long ago, was it?" asked Ana. But the question was entirely rhetorical. Junkrat scowled at himself, more out of annoyance than genuine hatred. 

"Life wasn't easy for you especially in Junkertown, was it? Even by junker standards."

"Oi, Junkrat ain't no softy! I did just foine by meself."

Ana cleared her throat skeptically and gestured down back to past Junkrat, who was being set upon by a group of junkers. 

"...Awright, so I wasn't no Mario Brother. But never let it be said ah don't fight my battles! Roadhog ain't had to step in for me a lot. Barely earns his keep, that fat wanker."

"But Roadhog's more than a bodyguard or a meat shield, isn't he? Isn't he a treasured friend?"

Junkrat regarded the wispy Ana with an incredulous stare. "Hallmark have you on retainer or something?"

Sighing, Ana touched his shoulder, and they were gone.

-/-/-/-/-

They were back at the watchpoint, but like the Junkertown of old, it was different. He recognized himself again, slightly older, with Roadhog in tow, and the rest of the newly-formed Overwatch scrutinizing him. In particular, a very familiar Chinese climatologist. 

"Oi, now this ah remember!" he cackled. "Day ah met the love of me life, Mei, bless her tits, ah--"

His monologue was interrupted by Ana giving him a light thump on the head. "Shush, and pay attention."

"How come ghosts can hit me!? That ain't how it works!"

"Brrr!" Junkrat turned to see his past self grinning at Mei, who regarded him with a positively icy look. "Ah get cold just lookin' at ya!"

"Then you should look somewhere else!" she replied, Lúcio and Hana letting out a synchronized 'Daaaaaaaang...'

"Aw..." Junkrat sighed, putting a hand to his chest. "Memories."

" _Ya alhi***..._ " Ana sighed. "I feel like you're missing the point, Junkrat."

The junker blinked, just before the light of realization hit him. "Oh, rooooooooight!"

Ana smiled; there just might be hope for him yet. "Good. And what was it?"

"It ain't just 'er tits; she's got a damn foine ass, too!"

A pause, before Ana, her patience officially worn thin, flicked Junkrat in the head, making him disappear in a poof of smoke.

-/-/-/-/-

From whatever power that whisked Junkrat down his trip to memory lane, it threw him back hard into his ramshackle bed. Grumbling irritably, he rubbed his head and looked around.

"Yeesh. Gran's getting irritable in her old age."

He yawned and stretched, but just before his head hit his grimy pillow, the door exploded inwards.

"HAPPY HOLIDAYS!" bellowed a jovial, German-accented voice.

Acting purely on instinct, Junkrat grabbed his grenade launcher and fired a volley, the projectiles passing harmlessly through the latest intruder and exploding uselessly in the yard.

"Lively!" His surprise gone, Junkrat could more accurately observe his 'guest'. By all accounts it was Reinhardt. But rather than his Crusader armor, he was draped in a magnificent robe of gold with velvet trim. In his hand instead of his hammer was an enormous mug of mead, sloshing onto the floor.

"Wot the bleeding fuck!?" screamed Junkrat, throwing his weapon to the ground. "How many geezer's are gonna wake me up tonight!? Who're you supposed to be, iffin' you ain't gramps?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Present!" 

"Ooh, presents!? Gimme, gimme!" Junkrat lept from his bed at the spirit, passing through him and crashing to the floor.

"Not presents, my boy!" Reinhardt laughed. " _Present_! As in the here and now! And we are wasting time!"

Grabbing Junkrat by the leg, he yanked him atop his mighty shoulders, and the two were off.

-/-/-/-/-

Seamlessly through corridors and hallways they went, until Reinhardt and Junkrat wound up in Mei's room. And instead of just her, Lúcio and Hana were keeping her company as she stomped around the room.

"He's just so insufferable sometimes!" Mei huffed, throwing her hands up in the air, making Hana grab Lúcio's arm in surprise. "Blowing up our Christmas tree! That uncouth demon!"

Junkrat winced at the Chinese woman's words. "Ouch. She cuts quick to tha core, don't she?"

Gently patting Hana's head, Lúcio spoke. "I think you're being a bit too hard on him."

Until the end of their days, Lúcio and Hana would swear, when Mei turned her head to face them, they heard the sound of howling winter wind and ice cracking. Letting out a short squeal, Lúcio hoped into Hana's lap, the gamer girl stroking his back comfortably.

"'Too hard'?" Mei hissed, and even Junkrat was terrified. He recognized that tone. That tone that promised severe reprimanding. "He _blew up_ our Christmas tree! And for no good reason! Ugh, sometimes I don't I know what I see in him!"

Reinhardt regarded Junkrat with a stern, yet comforting stare. "Are you perhaps learning something, dear boy?"

"Not ta piss off me old lady again?"

"Very good! Aaaaaaaaaaaand?"

"...Ya lost me."

Reinhardt sighed and rubbed his temples as Hana spoke up. "Well, wherever that spammer is, hopefully he's thinking for once."

"Oi, say that ta mah face, ya little--" Junkrat lunged for her, only to phase through her body. "Sonuvabitch!"

"Dear boy! You must take heed these lessons! What of your Christmas spirit?"

"Only lessons ah ever learned in mah life; never run outta gunpowder, and take what ya can. How's that for Christmas spirit?"

Sighing in defeat, Reinhardt raised his mighty hand and whacked Junkrat on the head, knocking him unconscious. "I'm too old for this..." he rasped, picking up the discarded junker and tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

-/-/-/-/-

Once again, Junkrat awoke, but this time he was ready. Grabbing every trap and mine he could, he layed them in a protective circle around his bed, clutching his grenade launcher tightly. And so, he waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

When it seemed as though all was well, he let out a sigh. "No more vegemite 'fore bed. Giving me the heebie-jeebies all niIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Just as Junkrat had turned to his pillow once more, a familiar emotionless, metal face had appeared next to him, faint, wispy, metallic blue. 'Twas Zenyatta, garbed in a shroud of deepest black, it seemed pulled from the shadows themselves. Shining, blue eyes gazed out from deep sockets, and phantom blue hands waggled slowly from his form, hypnotic and terrifying in their slow, dancer's movements.

"Oooooh, no!" Junkrat snarled. "Gramps and granny were one thing, but ah ain't taking moral cues from a tin can!"

Zenyatta was silent, his face unmoving, nine dots upon his head pulsing ominously. 

"Wot? Nothin' ta say? Not even yer granola talk?"

Silent, was the Omnic, in mouth, not in action. He raised a solid hand, beckoning Junkrat to take it.

"Have the bolts in yer head gone loose?" he snapped. "Ah ain't touching that wretched hand a yers!"

His dissent was unwelcome and unmatched against the eldritch power of the being before him. Time was of essence, and politeness unnecessary. Zenyatta was upon him with two, four, all eight hands, hoisting him up and outward into the dreary night sky. 

"Get offa me, ya damn tinker toy!" hissed Junkrat, thrashing about. 

Zenyatta was silent. And seconds after they touched down, so was Junkrat.

The watchpoint had been patched over, Satya's signature blue hard light glimmering in the dim light. Turning round, Junkrat noticed the absence of his and Roadhog's trailer, the only memory of its existence being the grooves from the wheels in the dirt.

"Tha hell?" he whispered. "Where's tha trailer?"

Zenyatta gestured to the bare spot and made naught but a wide, sweeping motion.

"Well, gee, thanks. That was sure helpful."

He jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps and turned to see Mei walking towards the spot of the former trailer. She looked haggard, like she'd not had a good night's sleep in a long time. In her hands she held a bouquet of white lilies.

Setting the flowers down, she let out a weary sigh, wiping a tear away the junker hadn't noticed. "Oh, Jamie..." she sniffled. "I miss you so..."

"Wot, I'm dead!?" exclaimed the junker. 

"You were so different...so...explosive...but too much for the team I guess."

Junkrat's heart hammered against his chest, fear rippling throughout him. Could one simple act of explosive fun led to this? He didn't know much about the butterfly effect, other than it was a terrible movie.

"Oi, Tin Man! Wot's this about? I'm dead? 'Cuz a one little prank? That's kinda harsh!"

Zenyatta remained silent, merely gesturing to the saddened Mei, who very much looked on the edge of tears.

"Aw, no, this ain't roight! Ah ain't never wanted this! Ah never wanted ta make Mei cry!"

The faintest bit of emotion played on Zenyatta's face. Concern? Worry?

"Oi, scraphe--er, Zenyatta! You gotta lemme fix this! And ah ain't askin'!"

Zenyatta floated, impassive for a moment. 

"Didjya hear me!? Send me back! You're the Ghost of Christmas whatever, so help me! I'm sorry, okay!? Now fix--"

The Omnic's hand gripped Junkrat's shoulder hard, and in a flash he was gone, darkness overtaking his vision...

-/-/-/-/-

Junkrat woke with a shriek in a cold sweat. Looking around, he saw it was still night. Gone was his spiritual companion, the sight of Mei about to cry, and he was back in his trailer. Terrified, but alive.

A glance at the clock told him it was only two hours to midnight, and the familiar sound of Roadhog's rumbling snores was music to his ears.

Grabbing every weapon and took he could carry, he kicked Roadhog in the side, the elder junker waking with an enraged snort.

"Wake up, you fat bastard! We got work to do!"

-/-/-/-/-

Christmas morning brought with it all the familiar feelings; a sense of excitement, wonder, and hope. Or at least it would, if the mess hall hadn't been blown to smithereens. 

Mei woke with a sigh, the memory of her chewing out Junkrat still fresh in her mind. Perhaps she'd been a bit more harsh than needed. She'd apologize later.

At least, that's what she thought until Hana literally kicked in her door, grinning ear to ear.

"Mei! Come here, you've gotta see this!"

Without even giving her an explanation or a chance to get dress, Hana dragged her out of bed and towards the mess hall.

The sight that greeted her woke her out of her stupor and sent her jaw to the floor. In the center of the crater Junkrat had made, stood a tree at least three times bigger than the one they'd obtained. It was a wonder how they even got it inside. From head to toe it was decorated with tinsel, lights, even popcorn strings (though a few appeared to have been eaten), and a few haphazard pieces of scrap metal. The scent of pine almost completely covered that of the explosion, and the hole left in the side had been patched, albeit with loose floorboards and sheet metal. In front of it stood Roadhog, silent as ever, and Junkrat, looking on the verge of death.

"Murry Chrysler!" he greeted in a shaky, tired voice. Roadhog sighed and slapped him across the back of his head. "Mean, Merry Christmas!"

Lúcio let out a low whistle of approval as he looked around the newly-decorated mess hall. "Dudes, this is...wow. How'd you manage this?" He paused. "Wait, did you guys--"

"We didn't steal anything." grumbled Roadhog. "Don't expect that in the future."

Lúcio decided that was the best he'd get.

"This is freaking amazing!" shouted Hana, snapping pictures at light speed. "You guys did this in a _night_!? I don't give you two enough credit."

"Does this mean you guys ain't gonna kill me?"

All eyes were suddenly on Junkrat. It was Winston who broke the silence. "Um...pardon?"

"Cuz of the last tree! I'm sorry, awright? It was just a bit of fun! Ah didn't know it meant so much to you guys, and--"

"Hold on. No one's killing anyone!" assured Winston.

"Well, we did think about deporting them to the Black Forest." shrugged Hana.

"WOT!?"

"Hana!"

"Whaaaaat? I mean, we're not gonna now, right?"

"You can't!" Now all eyes were on Mei. Squeaking nervously, she cleared her throat and rose to her full height. "Now, it's true that Junkrat destroyed our last tree, and our decorations in the process. But...he and Roadhog seem to have gone through a great deal of effort to make amends. And...I think that sort of dedication should be rewarded. And after all...it's Christmas."

She looked around with a smile, expecting some sort of reaction, but much of the team was pointedly avoiding looking directly at her. "Was that too sentimental?" she asked.

"Er..." spoke up Lúcio. "You don't feel a draft?"

Come to think of it, Mei did. And her wondering as to why was answered quickly when she realized that, in Hana's haste to bring her out, she had left, appeared in front of everyone, and given a rather impassioned speech, in her underwear.

Letting out a loud, embarrassed wail, she covered her face with her hands and was about to run for her life when Junkrat raced to her, wrapping her in a long, flowing coat of blue and white. "No worries, love! Said all the right things, even if it was in her lacies. And look! I got you a Christmas present!"

When the embarrassment faded, she had to admit, the cost was nice; soft and fluffy, and looked very expensive. She paused. "Did you steal this?"

"Why is everyone always doubtin' mah character?" 

"Jamison..."

"...Okay, I did, but last one for the year. I sware on me loife."

That was the best she could hope for. "Thank you. Really, Jamie, this means a lot."

"Oh!" He grinned, holding up his remote. "Ah got one more surprise!"

"Hit the deck!" shouted Hana, tackling Lúcio to the floor.

_click!_ went the remote. But there was no thunderous explosion or smattering of shrapnel. Instead, from the ceiling, connected by a series of true junker tech, a sprig of mistletoe descended, landing just above Mei and Junkrat.

"Eh?" he snickered, waggling his eyebrows.

"Even on Christmas you are incorrigible." replied Mei in a burst of giggles, pulling him into a kiss. As they broke apart, she nuzzled into his neck with a smile. "Merry Christmas, Junkrat."

"Merry kumquats, darl."

END

**Author's Note:**

> *hoodlum  
> **monster  
> ***gosh


End file.
